when a poet falls in love
it's not the normal, monotonous love that others experience
it's an explosion of overused metaphors
and sentences with no meaning

it's more about how they'd name stars after you
and kiss you in hurricanes that could destroy cities
it's not about how they came to fall in love
but about the first poem they wrote about you

you become the poem
you become the words scribbled down on paper
words only the poet truly understands

you become the cigarette they're dangerously addicted to
and how with every inhale and exhale a little bit of their
short lived life is given to you

tidal waves, earthquakes and full moons
start seeming miniscule to
summer showers, tiny vibrations and distant stars shining in the night

a poets love is surprising

If I'm going to hell at least I'll meet the devil with a smiling face.
I'm not ashamed, disgraced nor will I try to plead my case.
I'll embrace my throne of fire and brimstone with the grace.
The cyclone of living mistakes I'll be shown will encase my soul.

Truth be told, I look forward to the torture.
My hands being torn asunder for the hearts I've plundered.
My tongue should get cut out because it's really a butcher.
My mind will lose its complexity because, really, that's the best of me
And I'll be babbling like the people on reality T.v.

A piece of me will be taken violently
and slowly I'll lose my serenity
Until I'm helplessly watching my insanity
destroy the lives of those I hold dearly
But don't pity me, I walked down this path willingly.

I find solace in accepting the malice.
It's sort of like walking through a dark forest;
at least I know there's darkness.
At least I know I'm hopeless
At least I know I'm honest
The silence of my screaming soul will leave Satan astonished.

I've never liked the word Quiet
The word pulsates through my veins
Clawing at my neck
Flashes in my brain
Etched on my forehead
"You're so quiet."

I sit in the room full of people
Yet I am alone.
They're laughter bubbling up and overfilling the room
Like the cauldron they stir
Full of questions like,
"You don't talk much do you?"
And all I can do is shake my head shamefully.

I want to scream out loud
"Can you hear me now?" I cry out.
I am in this empty cave of oblivion
And all I hear are the taunting echoes
"You're so quiet."
"Speak up."
And all I can do is shake my head shamefully.

If a poet falls in love with you,
bear this in mind:
they will find libraries in your smile,
and endless pages within the color of your eyes.
They will spend sleepless nights
searching for better synonyms and metaphors
with which to describe you.
They will carefully choose their words,
turn you into beautiful art,
and write of how the heart
that beats inside your chest
synchronizes perfectly with their own.
Whether you know it or not,
you will be running marathons in their mind,
you will build a house inside their thoughts to live in,
and you will drive poetry out of them
with one miniscule glance.

We've become a
civilization of diseases
we build
monuments
statues
institutions
thinking death won't ever find
us here.

Our minds are scrambled
our bodies are damaged
our food is poisoned
our skies are toxic
our vices
are forces of processes
beyond our
control.

When we are not humbled
by nature's power
we inflict our wounds
upon ourselves in
the names of greed
and self protection
and no one knows
what it really means.

Fearful of the silence
we fill our skies with
endless noise
babbling on in endless
monotones, droning
while traffic stalls
at a hot stand still
idling engines
idling souls
depletion of every last glimpse
of the past.
Jam packed
in the stench
I am lost today
in
this vitriol
as anxiety, death and desperation
from every corner
screams my name.

That's why I came
to these woods
where the illusion of
peace remains
as
wild fires burn
just down the lane
as you know
as you say
its always been this way
when bodies hung
at every cross-roads
hunger, power, ignorance
and strength
all ran
the show.

I'm sick with
every disease I
know.

I float upon these tranquil
blue waters
and
we are reminded of the peace we all
really can know.

White paint peels off to leave the walls bare,
naked and exposed to
elements.
Much like his soul.
Starved of love and affection,
accepted but not wanted.
Tolerated.
The sun casts his shadows on those
He frowns upon,
leaving winding roads to spiral out of control.
Time shifts his world from
it's axis as it progresses,
it doesn't heal,
it doesn't lessen,
It just is.
Echoes of your voice ricochets
to find his heart,
carrying the exact weight they
did the second they fled your tongue,
never shedding an ounce of momentum

"The waves of pain
that had only lapped at him
before now
reared up high and pulled him under .."

To the girl who..
Stays home from school
Because she's too depressed
To even get out of bed.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Stands in front of the mirror
Unable to fight the tears
That criticize every inch.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Can't keep her dinner down
Because she only lost
Two pounds.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Cries on the cold tile of
Her bathroom floor with
A ****** razor in her hand.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Wears a long sleeve shirt in August
To hide all the scars
That memories leave.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Pops a handful of pills into her mouth
Just to feel normal for once
In her life.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Drowns her feelings
In a bottle of *****.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Watches the one person she loves
Fall in love
With somebody else.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Has family that
Always reminds her and
Tells her she's never good enough.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Locks her bedroom door
To hide from the demons
In her own hell.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Won't go home tonight
Afraid of what might happen
Behind closed doors.
I love you.

To the girl who..
Feels hopeless
And alone,
Planning to take her own life.
I love you.

Why do I love you?
I am you.

And, to you who reads this letter,
Whoever you may be,
Whatever road you stride down,
Wherever life may bring you,
Always remember that you are not alone.

Somebody loves you,
And there is always someone
Who is you.

You are the only one who my madness doesn't touch,
and the only entity whom can touch my heart, simultaneously.

Tell me, "I love you."
Say it with conviction.

Wait for the time.
Where the nine realms collide.

A touch of insanity with a wicked kiss.
Silver-laced tongue, sharp and keen.

Did pleasure ever feel this exquisite?
Nay--
from a morals hands, calloused from tiresome battles.

Verily; with hands carved from flesh and blood.
life and death.

A hundred times over;
have I fled from a lovers touch?

A thousandth time;
did I plea for mercy.

I spit the cry out
with fire and brimstone burning my throat.

For all this chaos and despair surrounding me,
A god on his knee's begging for repentance.

What a sight to behold;
malevolent creature with a benevolent cause.

I worship you,
a man made of Iron

You are the only one who my madness doesn't touch,
and the only entity whom can touch my heart.

We're all writers that don't know where our pen will take us,
Artists who's thoughts and emotions flow through our paintbrush,
A wall painted black, then white, then green, then multi-coloured,
It's changing,
Everything's changing,
Who are we fooling? Why pretend?
None of us are the same as we once were,
It's the demons inside of us that grow and mutate,
They puncture holes in our hearts and rip out our souls,
The deeper we sink, the more broken we see ourselves,
And the hate that we feel for our imperfections run harsh cuts into our skin,
Shivers across the lines of fields shaded red,
It's hard to keep the screams inside,
The rain behind our eyes remind me of shadows,
Pumping blood like butterflies in tunnels of glass,
The railroads to our hearts are barred with electrified wire,
Spinning webs of glutinous barriers,
Fleeting highs when fingertips touch love and trust,
Cut loose, like the strings of a puppet,
Trying to crawl back up the ladder of shattered china,
Back to that splintered paradise.

Caged I crawl,
Within the filth of society,
Labelled a freak by those who call others blind,
But how does that give them vision?

If you see me as different,
Then obviously I'm a threat,
So you must contain me and chain me,
You call me weak, yet you think you're strong?

But over time,
You cage too many of us,
We are the new society,
With labels we wrote ourselves,
And this inevitable insanity,
Will now only be endured by you,

Because you're normal,
And we're blind,

But we can see you,
And we'll cage you.

They speak silently
on troubled nights
whispering through the crowds
Somber voices
crying out
and soon
nothing else can be heard
through blaring deafness
in the loneliness of your mind
Listening
Remembering each word
and speaking up for all to hear
because you will reply to them
every night
you will reply

They are pointing finger at me.
Mother, they are laughing at me.

But see me now.
I'm back on my feet
I will make sure you meet
the person who you mocked
and I'm sure you will be shocked.

You will feel the pain I felt once.
No, I don't need your sympathy
I will ******* mentally.

There has always been one quote that has stuck with me through out my teenage life, it always made me think of us as a species, as people and of what as both individuals and as a species we are capable of,
and we really capable of so much,
Love,
Happiness,
Sadness,
Laughter,
Caring,
Hope,
And so much more, we as humans have the power to change the world,
And yet we don't,
And i Can say this because i don't believe in humans because i have been let down by so many,
I don't see the love or happiness or laughter not the caring or the hope,
I see people human beings walk past children getting beaten and abused,
I watch kids beat other kids for iPhones,
I see adults abuse kids for no reason other than they are drunk,

so many of these moments take my breath away and not for the right reasons, so many times I've lost my breath out of rage and anger over what we as humans have done and of what we have not done.

The quote for me that brings this together is this:

"Life is not measured by how many breaths we take but by how many breaths are taken away"

This counts for both the good and the bad moments in life, before i die i want to see and feel my breath taken away for the right reason.

Behind my mask of silver and gold
My identity is hidden well
No one sees past the masquerade
The beauty of the mask puts them under a spell
They get lost in swirling patterns
Of crushed velvet in midnight blue
In a trance and blind to the truth
Tears run down my face like morning dew
But no one notices
The pain that I bear
Because I still dance in circles
With the moonlight in my hair
And the mask on my face
Is where it shall stay
Because my life is a masquerade
And it fools the world every day

This evening I took a nap, and I woke up with a jolt.
I felt different... empowered. Like I could move with the speed of a lightening bolt.

I felt like I could move any mountain that stood in my way.
Like I could hold my breath forever and swim across the bay.

I felt like I could spread happiness, and joy, and make nothing sad.
I felt different, and I didn't feel bad.

I felt brand new, and extremely improved.
I no longer felt old, sad, and used.

I feel like I could use my voice to lead the nation.
I found a different path, and I am no longer walking the one of temptation.

I feel like I can lead the Earth, so come follow me, but don't forget your lighters.
Why? Because we're gonna blaze a new trail, and set the world on fire...

Present Day is like a defibrillator in action
the hole in my heart
supposed to be
filled,
but the "filling" started to hurt
from the
Constant Letdown,
My value, My worth

So I decided to remove the hurt
exposing the hole
watching a flood of pain, anger, frustration, peace, patience, rationality
gush out.

And then there was
nothing:
zero reaction or expression
no rise or fall
no sound or beat.
And the brain didn't care

It's
Just a hole in my heart.

Please, break my heart
So I can write a collection of poems.
I need to drown in the feeling
Of being alone.

I want my heart to break
I want my soul to ache.
For the feeling of achievement
I'll put my mentality at stake.

I need to chase the feeling.
I love to breathe that feeling.
Because I'm finally good at something.
And if my heart isn't broken,
Then I'm absolutely nothing.

In that cold, moonless night
my feeble mind raced through
a thousand thoughts.
But those thoughts,
cannot describe what I was feeling
as I was giving my own life away.

As much as I wanted to start over,
I convinced myself that it was worthless.
I had already lost faith in the things around me,
I'd lost faith in the things I treasured most.
But most of all,
I had lost faith in myself.

I'd always left the door ajar,
hoping that my miseries would finally come to an end.
After all, I thought,
would the world any less different
after I had passed away?


I waited,
and death came.
He had knocked on the door,
and said his warning.

Weak was I, not far from surrendering.
But at the last moment, I remembered.
The thousand thoughts, memories, feelings,
all coalesced into one faint memory I'd myself had forgotten.

One one overcast morning, the sun still rising,
a friend said,
"I believe everything turns out well in the end.
If your life is still sour, then it isn't the end."

Like a violent stampede hurdling down a hill,
or a tsunami reaching land,
every part of my faith was restored.
From the things I had once doubted,
reassurance came flooding back.

He gave another warning,
before kicking the door open.
I stood in front of him, and said:
You are going to leave this house now. There is no one here to take.
Yes, I gave up. And yes, I decided to take my life away.
But He changed that decision, and turned me around.
And guess what?
Today, isn't my day.